CHAPTER FIVE

 

 

Monday morning, Rachel waited by the front desk, making small talk with Tim, the guy on duty. Truthfully, her heart wasn’t in it—neither was her attention. She was keeping an eye on the front door, wondering what would happen when Andrew stepped through it for his interview.

What would he say?

What would she feel?

She’d manipulated him, plain and simple, but she wasn’t sure if she regretted it. She’d done it for a good cause, and although she didn’t understand the reason Andrew had stayed away all these years, it wasn’t going to get better unless someone prodded him.

They’d spoken over the phone yesterday afternoon, and the conversation had been stilted and awkward. Not at all like their previous conversations, and it had been rough. Afterwards, Rachel had called Bob to let him know he had an interview this morning. He hadn’t been surprised she was at work—she often worked Sundays so there was a manager on duty—but he had gone strangely silent when she’d told him who the interview was with. He’d thanked her and hung up, sounding preoccupied.

Yesterday evening, she’d texted Brooke Quinn. The woman was technically her doctor, but they’d become friends, and Rachel needed some answers. Unfortunately, when Brooke called, she didn’t have many.

“I can’t help you,” she’d said. “All I do know is that Andrew and Heather just sort of disappeared a few years back. I mean, they still talk to their parents and siblings—Alyssa’s got a son, and I’m sure Andrew knows Jer—but he quit coming to any extended family events before the kid was born.” On the other end of the phone, Brooke huffed. “You know how tight our family is, right? Holidays, parties, any kind of event, we use it as an excuse to get together. But not Andrew and Heather, and I know our grandparents aren’t too happy about that. We all miss them.”

That seemed to be all anyone knew. Andrew had quit associating with the family some years ago, and there was no explanation. But there had to be.

She knew Andrew well enough to know he didn’t make random decisions; he thought through everything and made logical choices. So why didn’t he want to be around his family? Why didn’t he want to work with this uncle?

Closing her eyes, Rachel breathed a little prayer she’d done the right thing. They needed an engineer. Bob and his family needed a chance to reconnect with Andrew. And she…she needed a chance to see where this relationship with Andrew would go.

She hoped she hadn’t just screwed up her chances at all of those things. By making this deal with him, by ensuring Bob would have a chance with Andrew, had she doomed her chances at a further relationship with him? Oh, per the agreement, they’d be able to date—to kiss! But had she betrayed whatever trust Andrew might’ve found in her?

She groaned under her breath and bit her lip hard.

Face it, you’ve screwed everything up again, dork.

No, no. She took a deep breath and decided she needed a more supportive subconscious.

She opened her eyes just in time to see Andrew step through the front door. He hesitated, and she was moving before she knew what she intended to do. All she knew was she had to offer him whatever support and comfort she could.

He’d stepped into the lobby by the time she reached him, and without thinking, she took his hand. He squeezed it tighter than she’d expected, but his expression was carefully blank. Whatever he was feeling, being here in his uncle’s hotel, he was hiding it from her. Maybe even from himself.

“I’m glad you’re here, Andrew,” she said quietly.

A flash of something in his green eyes told her he wasn’t happy to be here, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he tugged on her hand once, and when she stumbled closer to him, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. And Lord help her, but she snaked her arms around his middle and wished she was kissing him. But judging from the way he was breathing—deep, carefully controlled, I-can-do-this-thing breaths—he needed a hug more than anything else right now.

And whereas on Friday, holding Andrew had been full of promise, today she only felt his…well, desperation might be the right word.

It was over too quickly, and when he pulled back and she stared up at him—both breathing hard, one thought ran through her head:

What have I done?

She’d forced this, and she was no longer sure it was the right move.

She had to make things right. “Are you sure—”

“Where’s my uncle’s office?” he asked in a hard voice.

Ah.

So he was willing to go through with the interview.

“This way,” she said quietly, and tugged him towards the back hall.

She passed the front desk clerk without meeting his eyes, knowing she’d just made a spectacle of herself.

You’re going to start rumors about the AGM embracing strange men in the lobby.

Andrew wasn’t strange; he was the boss’s nephew.

Suddenly, Rachel really, really hoped they wouldn’t run into Roxane or another of Andrew’s cousins.

“So…” Once they were in the back hall, she cleared her throat and began again. “How was Sophie’s game?”

During their attempt at small talk yesterday, Andrew had told her about his niece’s hockey career. Today, his response was decidedly less enthusiastic.

“Fine. She scored,” he said in a monotone. “I told her she could get a scholarship with an arm like that.”

“Um…yeah,” she agreed in a small voice. This was so awkward!

Stupid, stupid.

As they approached the big door at the end of the hall, Rachel paused, realizing she was nervous as all get out. Beside her, Andrew took a deep breath and released her hand.

Why?

Did he not want Bob to see them holding hands? Or did he just want to adjust his tie with both hands?

She knocked, and from inside, Bob’s voice sounded a little strained when he called “Come in.”

And once they were inside, and he’d stood up behind his desk, his expression told her he was just as nervous.

Why?

Did he really know why Andrew had stayed away all this time? Or was he nervous about finding out?

“Andrew, my boy,” he said with obviously forced cheerfulness. “It’s wonderful to see you!” He held his hand out, the way he would at the beginning of any interview.

But unlike any other interviewee, Andrew just looked at the hand as he approached the desk. And once there, he sank down into one of the chairs opposite Bob, still staring at the hand his uncle was offering with a blank expression.

When it became clear he wasn’t going to shake his hand, Bob did his best to play it off. He forced a chuckle and ran his hand through his hair, as if that had been his intention all along.

“Well, Andrew, I hope you don’t mind I’ve asked Rachel to sit in on the interview. Even though you wouldn’t be working for her directly, I think she has some valuable insights into running this hotel. I couldn’t manage it without her, far too stressful.”

Slowly, Andrew turned to meet her eyes, and she winced at how hard his were. “I would’ve insisted on it,” he said blandly.

“Ah. Right.” Bob shuffled a few of the ubiquitous papers on his desk. “So, let’s get started, shall we?”

He launched into an explanation of what they were looking for, explaining how their chief had left unexpectedly, and how none of the remaining engineers were suitable for the job. He covered the breadth and scope of the hotel, and it was impossible not to hear his pride as he spoke about all the improvements and expansions.

Rachel did her best to focus on her boss’s words, but she couldn’t help watching Andrew. His hands had clenched into fists on his knees, although she doubted Bob could see it on his side of the desk. And through his carefully trimmed beard, Andrew looked…pale. Sick, almost. Bob didn’t seem to notice.

“Now, Andrew, I know you’re used to a place like River’s End Ranch, where there’s a million responsibilities and no end to the work. We’re a smaller operation here, but it’s perfect for Quinn Valley. We have more guest rooms, as I understand it, but fewer headaches!” He laughed at his own joke, then barreled on, “While you’ve got all the bells and whistles over there in Riston, we’re limited to just a company fleet—of four-wheelers!—and the water park.”

Bob then held up his hands as if to stave off an interruption Rachel could tell wasn’t going to come. “Now, don’t get me wrong, the water park is a lot of work, but when we incorporated it, it came with its own maintenance staff. We could arrange them to report to you if you wanted, or continue to report to me.”

As Bob spoke, it was obvious Andrew was becoming more and more uncomfortable. He’d shifted twice in his seat already, and she was sure she saw sweat gleaming on his temples. He definitely looked ill.

Was he ill, or was it his reaction to this interview?

Bob seemed oblivious. “Now, the work won’t be as much of a headache, and we’ve only got a staff of four, but I’m willing to offer you a competitive salary. I know you feel a real ownership over at River’s End Ranch, and you should be proud of what you’ve accomplished, my boy! But family’s family, and it’s time you come home. What do you say?”

He finished on a cheerful tone, as if the deal were already made, but that was Bob for you. He’d spent his career being undeniably the man in charge, used to running things. It had led to a hospital visit when his heart had decided he was doing too much, and Rachel had been promoted as a result. Now she took pride in sharing his work, making things easier for him…

And more than anything, right now, she was wishing she’d never set up this stupid interview in the first place, never bribed Andrew into agreeing.

Because he looked as if he was moments away from being sick.

When Andrew didn’t say anything—didn’t look as if he could say anything—Bob smiled hugely, completely unaware there was anything wrong.

“Excellent! I always knew you’d come around, my boy. It’ll be good to have you back with the family where you belong—”

“Excuse me.” Uncoiling his hands long enough to thrust himself upright out of the seat, Andrew sneered down at his uncle. “I’m not taking this job. I’m not even sitting through this interview for one more minute.”

Dismissing Bob—who looked as shocked as she felt—Andrew turned to Rachel. There was a mixture of hopelessness and horror and disgust in his eyes when he shook his head. “I like you, Rachel. A lot. I liked you enough to agree to this stupid game, but I’m done. I can’t even be in the same room with him”–the way he snarled the pronoun left no doubt who he meant—“without wanting to throw up or hit something.”

He did look nauseated and disgusted.

“If sitting through an interview is the only way to date you again, I guess I have my answer. Goodbye.” He shook his head again. “You’re wonderful, but not worth this.”

He stumbled away from the desk without looking in Bob’s direction again, and without meeting her eyes. And as Rachel instinctively reached for him—to stop him? To help him?—she knew the truth:

This was goodbye, and goodbye on the worst terms.

He pulled the door open, almost running in his hurry to leave Bob’s presence, and she felt her heart breaking. Not only for what she’d just lost, but for his pain.

I caused that.

She squeezed her eyes shut at the sound of the door slamming, and it felt as if something inside her slammed shut too.

“Well.” Bob’s voice cut through the silence. “That could’ve gone better.”

I can’t be in the same room with him without wanting to throw up or hit something.

He’d said that. He’d had no intention of coming to this interview, until she’d manipulated him into it, and now she’d lost both Andrew and a chance to bring him back to his family.

Failure. Failure!

She sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t think—”

“Yes, it’s clear you didn’t.”

The hardness in Bob’s voice made her open her eyes and meet his with a shocked feeling. He’d never spoken to her this way.

“You manipulated that boy into this interview, didn’t you?” He shook his head. “Presumably, because you thought it would be good for the hotel. And I’ve seen what he’s done in Riston. He would be good for the hotel, and it’d be good for him to be here.” Clucking his tongue, Bob reshuffled the papers. “But I told you he’s stubborn, and you just saw that. If you’re smart, you’ll stay away from him.”

Rachel looked back at the closed door, wondering where Andrew had gone.

Was he already driving back to Riston? Would she ever see him again?

No, not after that definitive goodbye.

“You’re probably right,” she whispered. It would be smart to stay away from him.

She sighed. Besides, she had work to do, and an engineer to find.

That’s what mattered, right?